Project X Collaboration Book One
by ProjectXCollaboration
Summary: A collaboration of writers, coming together to chronicle all of the tales of the mutant universe. From Professor Charles Xavier's X-men to Eric Lehnsherr's Brotherhood to the Sentinels, each mutant's story will be told. So welcome to the epic tales of the mutants. Welcome. . . to Project X!
1. Prologue

**As Stan Lee would say "Welcome, True believers!"! Welcome to Debut of Project X! You've tuned in to the premiere of what is to be an epic re-telling of the glorious tales of the X-men! With an entire collaboration of authors writing for different characters to create this story, it's bound to be an interesting and exciting ride! Now without further ado, here's the prologue (Written by myself, Baldore)! And make sure to be on the look out for the next update!**

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Professor Charles Xavier

**Prologue; Prep the Blackbird**

Written by; Baldore

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Professor Charles Xavier was an exceptional man. Many different people believed this to be true, although they didn't all agree on why they shared this belief. Most people were not even fully aware of all the reasons of the reasons that he was exceptional. And some might be scared if they knew all of those reasons.

Some believed he was exceptional because of his unshakeable morals. He always did what he thought to be the correct thing, never compromising his standards and always fighting for what he believed was right. What many people don't know is that his actions on behalf of those morals were one of the factors that led to his confinement to a wheelchair.

Others might argue that the man's astute people skills made him exceptional. His ability to discern what a person truly thought or how to calm someone down with his words was unsurpassed. While some of this was natural instinct, there was a much lesser known ability that made this easier for him.

Still others could say that his fight for equal rights could be why he was exceptional. After all, he was very influential in the government and had made a great deal of progress in the fight for equality for all groups of people. For one group in particular, one with which he had special experience, his efforts on their behalf were vital.

But another group of people could argue that his school was the reason he was exceptional. The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters recently held its official grand opening, paid for and run by Charles Xavier himself. The school was exactly what it said it was, a place for gifted youngsters, though no one specified exactly how the students were 'gifted'. And the truth would have surprised many.

You see, Professor Charles Xavier was what one would call a 'mutant'.

He was one of the people to be blessed, or cursed, depending on your point of view, by being born with a special gene. This was a gene that science did not fully understand, and so had dubbed it 'the X gene', a gene that granted extraordinary abilities. In the professor's case, it had granted him the power of telepathy, what most people would call 'mind reading', 'mind control', and other such mental abilities.

These mental powers played a leading role in the story of how the Professor became confined to a wheelchair, also contributed to his naturally effective people skills. Being a mutant inspired him to fight for the rights of the neglected and the misunderstood, other mutants especially. But those thoughts weren't on the forefront of Professor Xavier's mind on this day.

No, today, Charles was focused on his newly opened school, a large mansion in the countryside. The school would provide a safe environment for talented but troubled kids, along with boarding at the mansion, an education of course, friends who shared the experience of being a mutant, a pool, and even a basketball court. Beneath the surface levels were various other cutting edge facilities, even a secret Blackbird jet hidden under the basketball court.

Many of the things in these special levels could not be found elsewhere, the first being the education the students would receive. In addition to a regular curriculum, though one well above public school standards, the students would also learn to control their abilities granted to them by their X-genes. The virtual training room, or 'danger room', was unique as well. It could be changed for varying difficulties of physical training, ranging from a basic hand to hand session to grueling near deadly missions in simulated locations. The room could even create tangible holograms for exhausting but effective training.

Today, Charles Xavier couldn't be found on the campus of the school. The need for a wheelchair tended to eliminate the basketball court as a possible location, as well as the danger room. No, today he was in another room beneath the mansion using a very special machine.

While the machine looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie, its purpose was quite simple. The machine, known as Cerebro, was designed to amplify a telepath's abilities in order to locate other mutants anywhere around the world. And it could, excluding one man. Today, one could find Charles Xavier seated at the machine, wearing the user helmet, hard at work to locate potential recruits for the school.

Just as the good professor was about to call it a day, a blip appeared on the console of Cerebro, surprising after a long day of inactivity. The red blinking light signaled that another mutant's powers had been activated and they had been suddenly thrust into a whole new world that they had no knowledge of, without so much as a heads up or a warning, and certainly not a manual.

Charles, pleasantly surprised by this turn of events, selected the blip. As he did so, a small screen appeared, displaying known information on the mutant, including her, for it was indeed a her, name, age and several other important factors. Eve Milton, a college student at the age of 19. The poor girl had unfortunately chosen a school that rather . . . ill suited her talents. This particular college already had several clubs that were protesting against the rumors of people with special abilities, and Xavier knew from experience that if anyone on campus found out about Eve being a mutant, she couldn't be in a worse environment. The feelings of stress, nervousness and constant paranoia that Charles received from her through Cerebro only confirmed his suspicions.

Deciding that this case was of utmost importance, the headmaster reached out through a mental link to the other sole occupant of the Mansion. Normally, there were others but they were already away on a recruiting trip. Only a young man by the name of Scott Summers was currently in the mansion, apart from the Professor himself.

Having been at the mansion long enough to respond immediately when Xavier contacted him mentally, the teen quickly responded. _"Yes, Professor? Is something up?"_

"_Yes, Scott. Indeed there is_," Xavier removed Cerebro's headset and gently placed it on the console. Moving his wheelchair away from the machine, he continued. "_Prep the Blackbird. We have a possible recruit. And neither time nor fortune seem to be on to be on her side._"


	2. Chapter 1

**Welcome once more, everyone to the first chapter! This is Baldore once again bringing you guys into a chapter of Project X. Written by the amazing KoteSkirata, we'll will be actually introducing an original character with this chapter, one Miss Eve Milton! If you have her power of seeing thirty seconds into the future, you'd already know that though! Okay before I shut up though I've got two short announcements for you all. First, if you want to join up with the Collab, or just hang out with the members here's a link so feel free to stop by here; forum/Project-X/140941/ Second, we've got promotional pictures of the characters in the Collaboration here at; I'll periodically update this and when each character premiers, I'll try to get a promotional picture of them. Okay, anyway, without further adeou, I hope you enjoy this awesome chapter as much as I did!**

**_Important Edit_; Okay, huge apology time everybody. Completely my fault, not KoteSkirata's. I accidently uploaded a chapter with several missing paragraphs, inconsistences and what not. What happened was that my Copy and Paste messed everything up and I failed to catch it in editing. I'm so sorry and try this version out! Again, sorry, it won't happen again!**

_**(**'Italics'_** means thoughts.)**

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Eve Milton

**30 Second Rule**

Written by; KoteSkirata

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^Name: Eve Milton.

Year: Freshman.

Major: Criminal Justice.^

Eve scrolled through the form, filling out the fields and wondering for at least the hundredth time why scholarship applications always wanted to know everything about her. She'd applied for one that had asked her shoe size, and one that had wanted to know if she'd ever done drugs. '_No, thank you very much, but I don't see how that's anyone's business anyway. Next they'll be wanting to know my blood type.'_

She finished filling out the form and moved the mouse over the Submit button, only to discover that there was an entire second page that she needed to address. '_You've got to be kidding!'_

Eve glanced at the first blank, and paused.

^Family:^

She pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, scowling. Eve didn't like filling out that particular blank, no matter what the form was for. Somehow, explaining that she was an orphan who'd had more than ten foster homes growing up didn't exactly put her in a happy mood.

Eve moved her mouse away from the button that she had never clicked, and minimized the tab on her browser. There were perks to seeing thirty seconds into the future, although foreseeing webpages wasn't what she would call the top of the list. But it did help her avoid pop-up ads selling awkward things in computer lab.

Stretching her arms over her head, Eve glanced around the deserted lounge. Classes were over for the day, and she'd been working on applying for a few extra scholarships to help with textbook costs. _'But I've had quite enough of that for now. I'll finish it later. Wonder if Netflix has the new Sherlock episodes yet...?_'

Minimizing her browser, Eve caught sight of her reflection in the screen and smiled a little, raising a hand to smooth the ruffled edges of her cropped hair. Her green eyes looked tired as they gazed back at her from the screen, and she decided she should really get more sleep. '_Of course, that really depends on my professors,'_ She mused.

'_Eve,' _Startled, she looked around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Plenty of people walked past, and sometimes in but it _was_ a student lounge, after all. But while what she had heard was a voice, it had not spoken aloud. '_Somehow,_ _I don't think that's a good thing._'

_'Eve.'_

_'Twice in ten seconds... Leaves me twenty seconds to get out of here._' She scrambled, stuffing her computer into her bag with a recklessness that would have made her cringe, were she not rather preoccupied.

She glanced at the door, watching a phantom image of herself turn the knob and step into the hallway. She was met by a man in a wheelchair, a man with the most piercing eyes she'd ever seen.

'_No good. Can't get out that way.'_

Eve slung her bag onto her back and turned to the window. It was a massive, old-fashioned affair, with double panes of glass set in a wooden frame. But all she cared about was the metal fire escape ladder bolted onto the exterior wall, next to the window. Eve dug her nails under the heavy frame and heaved upward, gasping with the effort.

_'Don't be afraid, Eve._'

She caught her breath, feeling her heart race. '_The only people who tell you not to be afraid are the ones you need to be afraid of.'_ Eve yanked at the window again, and gave a little cry of relief when it slid open. She scrambled up onto the sill, grabbing the ladder. 'T_en seconds. Maybe less. . . No way I can climb down three stories that fast.'_

The thought made her look down, and she was suddenly dizzy. '_Oh my. . ._'

But in the next instant, among the occasional student passing far below, Eve saw a phantom figure walk to the bottom of the ladder and tip its head back. It was hard to see much from that distance, but the man was wearing some kind of fancy sunglasses, and he was looking directly at where she would be in a few seconds if she started climbing down.

'_Don't go down. Down is bad.''_

Frantic, Eve started up the ladder toward the roof, which was only one floor above her. '_Five seconds until the voice says my name. Fifteen seconds until the guy in the wheelchair reaches the door. Twenty-five seconds until the guy in the glasses looks up and sees me.'_

_'Who are these people? What do they want?!'_

She knew what they wanted. Eve was trying not to think about it, but deep down with all the other things she was trying not to face, she knew that this was only about one thing.

'_Mutation. Whoever they are, they know I'm a mutant, and that's why they're chasing me._

_Why they will be chasing me. In . . . one second.'_

Her time ran out, and Eve braced herself to hear that voice echo in her head - but no voice came. Confused and scared, she stopped climbing, feeling her arms shake as she looked up toward the roof.

_'Oh, no, no, no . . . how?'_

The man in the wheelchair was waiting for her on the roof - or at least he would be in less than seven seconds, emerging from the door that led to the stairwell and the elevator. Three seconds until the man in the sunglasses looks up. No windows that I can reach.

'_I'm trapped.'_

Eve closed her eyes, trembling all over from fear and exertion - oh, and she was hanging from a ladder not quite four stories above the ground. That didn't exactly help.

_'All right. I guess I'll go ask him what he wants.'_

Eve took a deep breath, and started climbing again.

She swung herself up onto the roof, moving a safe distance away from the edge. She slung her battered bag off of her back and set it down, her eyes moving quickly as she tracked various possible futures – the results of her saying this, doing that.

But when the man said, "Hello, Eve," it caught her completely by surprise, because _she hadn't seen it coming_.

"How did you do that?" she asked. "And how are you here, when you should be where I was a few minutes ago?"

This time Eve caught it, just a second or two before he actually began to speak. There was barely even a difference, as if the future was scrambling to stay ahead of the present. She didn't like it.

"To the first question, the answer is simple – indecision. I did not plan any course of action until I felt the need to speak."

She nodded, biting her lip. Eve hadn't thought of that, but it was rather simple, really. The man hadn't thought about doing anything other than sit there, so all she saw was him sitting here. '_Going to have to remember that one. It's a neat trick. Too neat for my liking.'_

The man continued, "The second question is more complicated, and the answer is nearly opposite to the first. I employed a mental decoy by concentrating on a potential course of action. Confronted by the possibility of an immediate threat, you ran, and I followed, thus changing the future and causing the possible future from which you fled to cease to exist."

Eve stared at him. '_There's a paradox in there somewhere, I think. Not important, though.'_

_'There's no way he's not a mutant.'_

"Who are you?" she finally said.

He smiled, and replied, "My name is Charles Xavier, and I am the head of a school that is a refuge for mutants."

_'Oh . . . kay. Right. What?'_ Eve considered that for a moment, and then froze as she heard his voice again.

_'I'm here to invite you to my school.'_

She drew a quick breath. '_That was his voice. But not his voice in the future, or his voice now. That was his voice . . . in my thoughts?'_ Eve stared at Xavier, wide-eyed.

_'You're in my head_?'

_'In a manner of speaking.'_

Eve shuddered and said aloud, "Can you not? I don't like that." '_My mind is private, thank you very much.'_

"Of course."

She attempted to refocus, although that was rather impossible after feeling someone else's thoughts inside her mind. '_Not getting over that any time soon.'_ "Why do you want me at your school? I'm fine here, thanks. I'm in my second semester and actually quite enjoying it."

Xavier said unexpectedly, "Eve, how long have you had your powers?"

She didn't have to think about it. "Almost six months."

"And do you feel safe here? Specifically, as a mutant, do you feel safe here?"

Eve blinked. "Sure," she lied.

He leaned forward, watching her intently. "Are you aware that there are three separate anti-mutant protests on this campus at this very moment? Of course, they don't know exactly that they're protesting mutants, only the rumors of 'super-humans' but if they found out. . . Regardless, one of them is outside this building. It's making my associate rather uncomfortable."

She avoided the question. "I'm guessing your associate is the guy in the weird sunglasses?"

"Yes. His name is Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops."

Eve wrinkled her nose, remembering the way the sunglasses had turned the man's face blank and staring. "Seems fitting."

Xavier brought her back to the point, asking gently, "If you feel safe here, then why did you run? You went out a third story window onto a ladder and climbed to the roof to get away from me, knowing only that I could do something that was beyond the average set of human abilities. Why did you flee from another mutant if you felt safe?"

_'And running worked so well.'_ Eve looked down. She'd watched the news a lot in the last few months, kept her eyes open, eavesdropped everywhere she went – and she didn't like what she was seeing and hearing. People were becoming scared by the possibility of people she knew to be mutants, and then eventually that would turn to anger at them. She had taken a psychology class in high school, and she knew that the only thing more dangerous than scared and angry people was what they were willing to do. And the college Eve had worked so hard to get into was rapidly becoming far too dangerous for her to stay.

She knew that. She'd been denying it, burying it deep and pretending it didn't hurt to watch the place she loved slowly growing more and more hostile to her, and everyone like her.

_'And wouldn't it be nice to be able to talk to people without them thinking I'm crazy because I can see the future? To be able to reach out and catch something before it falls instead of watching it hit the floor twice because I don't want to give myself away? I've lost so many dishes that way. Wouldn't it be lovely to finally stop having to slow down and wait for people to ask the question before I answer it?_

_Although Xavier seems to be able to keep ahead of me just fine with his whole 'no planned course of action' trick . . .'_

"All right," Eve said, very quietly, "I'll come with you. I'm not saying I'll stay anyway, I'll come see what it's like. But I won't promise any more than that."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Xavier said, and she could hear a warmth in his voice that hadn't been there before. She looked at him sharply, and saw relief written in his face.

_'He's actually worried about me. Genuinely worried. For my safety?'_

"Can we stop by my dorm before we go?" '_However it is that we're going. . .'_ "I need to pack some things." Eve studied him curiously. _'Is this what he does? Just come out of nowhere, and rescue stranded mutants?'_

"Certainly." Xavier started toward the door to the elevator, and she followed, slinging her bag over her shoulder once more.

"By the way, how are we getting to this school of yours?" she asked.

He replied without turning. "We fly."

'_Oh. Right_.'


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, welcome once again to the latest update! Sorry for that insane wait, there's just been a ton of things going wrong with the account for this and then DocX is being difficult, etc. (Speaking of which, that last forum link didn't appear to work. . .try this one (just remove the spaces and parenthesis); fan fiction forum (.net) (/forum) /Project-X/140941/ )** ** Aaaanyway, here is the next update! We have the fantastic Luthien Luinwe introducing our second OC, Cambriel Johnson! Enjoy the awesomeness! **

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Cambriel Johnson

**Mind Games**

Written by; Luthien Luinwe

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He wasn't entirely sure of what had happened, and he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to understand what had happened. And that was the entire truth surrounding the situation. One moment he'd been pinned up against a locker, and the next he was in the principal's office facing a serious inquiry.

"I want to believe you, Mr. Johnson," the principal sighed. "But the fact of the matter is you were the last one seen with the two."

"I already told you I don't know what happened," the young man said as he crossed his arms over his too-skinny torso. He'd made a comment, nothing more, and by some correlation it had led to two students almost dying. Of course they hadn't, having been caught in time, but it had been close. He'd said one phrase, one simple phrase. 'Go jump off a building.' And then they had gone and tried to do it. He'd always been persuasive, and he knew that, but he'd never thought anything of it before.

"Look Cam," the man across the desk sighed again, though he'd taken on a much less formal manner. "I've had you in this office more times than any other student. You miss classes, when you're in class you don't pay attention or you give teachers a hard way to go, and when you're in the hallways you always end up in a situation like this. What's going on?"

"Nothing," the boy, Cam, said far too quickly for anyone to believe him. Just a constant headache that won't go away, he thought. On top of some freak ability that seems to exist.

"Well in any case," the principal said after a moment. "We've made arrangements to have someone speak with you next Monday." Cam opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't get the chance to speak. "And you will speak with him, do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," the boy muttered after a moment. Really what choice did he had? If he didn't agree, he'd still be forced to go. And if he ditched the meeting, he'd just end up in more trouble than he was already in. Besides, it was probably just another psychologist convinced he was hiding something. He was, of course, but no one needed to know about that. He only had a year of high school left after the current one ended, and then he'd be free to get out of his house and away from the abusive drunk that shared it with him.

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Cam walked into the office for what seemed like the millionth time the week after the incident, threw his backpack onto the ground and took a seat across from the principal's desk where the principal was not seated. Instead there was a man confined to a wheel-chair, a man with a bald head and a calm disposition. "Cambriel Johnson," he greeted in a gentle voice. A calm smile ran across his face. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier, but most of my students refer to me as Professor X."

"You from some sort of institution?" Cam asked. He flipped his shaggy black hair out of his face. He'd always hated formalities and small talk and didn't particularly care if the man thought he was being rude.

"In a way," the professor answered. "I run a school, a school for people like us."

"What do you mean like us?" the teen asked as he straightened up. He wondered if there were other people like him, people that tended to have inexplicable things happen around them.

'I think you know exactly what I mean,' the man replied, though not verbally. Cam jumped at the sudden voice in his head. There was absolutely no way on the face of the earth that could have been explained by any sort of science. Superpowers didn't exist. If they did, then nothing bad would have ever happened, not only to him but to others as well. "You have a very special gift, Cam," the professor said, verbally that time. "A heightened gene that very few people in this world possess, a mutation if you will. And there are others like you, more than you think."

"So it's what, a school for freaks?" Cam questioned.

"Not freaks," Professor X corrected. "Mutants, those of us with an active X-gene causing us to have special abilities. The school teaches you control and how to use those abilities for the greater good."

"I'm no superhero," Cam sighed after a moment. He had a pretty good idea of who he was, and he was fairly certain the words 'good guy' didn't come to one's mind when they thought about him.

"At least consider it?" the professor asked.

Cam stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing his decision. If he went to the school, it would mean he'd have to at least attempt to cooperate with a group of teenagers who probably thought they were better than everyone else. But going to the school would also mean getting away from his father, getting away from the school, and getting a new chance and a potentially better life. "If I go," he began. "Will I have to stay even if I don't like it?"

"That decision is entirely yours to make," the man answered. "No one can force you to stay with us if you decide it isn't a good fit."

Cam shook his head. The logistics surrounding the whole situation seemed good on the surface, but he wasn't so sure about parts of the plan. Leaving to go to the school would mean that someone would have to have some communication with his father, and there was no possible way that that would go well. And if there was anything legal involved in the situation, his father would have to be sober to be of any use, and that was even less likely to happen.

_'Leave the legalities of the situation to me_.' Cam jumped when he heard the voice in his head again.

"Will you stop that?!" the teenager snapped at the man. He didn't like the idea of someone being able to get into his mind. If the man could communicate telepathically, it made Cam wonder what else he could do.

"Of course," Xavier answered. "I do apologize."

"So, what exactly can I do anyways?" Cam asked, abruptly changing the subject. If he was going to go to the freak-show school, he wanted to at least have an idea of what it was that made him 'gifted' or 'special' or whatever else it was the man was trying to get him to believe.

"That I'm not completely certain about," Charles admitted. "Though, it seems as though you possess some form of telepathic ability. If you would allow me access to your mind, I might be better able to answer that question."

"No," Cam responded abruptly. "No way." There were thoughts, memories, and feelings buried deep in his mind that he didn't want anyone seeing, be it purposeful or accidental. He didn't care how trained or experienced the professor was, he didn't quite trust him. After all, trust had to be earned, and he had just met the man. "But I'll think about the school."

* * *

Two days after the meeting, Cam's bags were packed and he was ready to move to New York state, or at least as ready as a person in his situation could have been. The professor had spoken with his father, and his father had been all too eager to get rid of the boy that had been inconveniencing him for fifteen years.

"Are you ready?" Charles asked the boy as the car pulled up.

"Like it matters," the teen huffed. He slung the bag containing a few of his things on a shoulder and approached the car. It was being driven by a sunglasses-wearing teen a bit older than himself. If he was being completely honest with himself, he would have admitted that he would have eventually chosen to go to the school, but he was never completely honest with himself. He climbed into the back of the car and leaned against the door, hoping to sleep through the ride.

"Cam, right?" the driver asked. The teen nodded slightly. "I'm Scott, Scott Summers."

"You attend the school?" Cam raised an eyebrow. He couldn't get the superhero stigma out of his head.

"Yeah, hopefully you'll like it there." Scott nodded. "You'll learn more about it once we reach the mansion."

"I'll give it a shot," Cam nodded slowly. At least then he wouldn't have worry about principals who out to get him, right?

"Got it," Scott smiled welcominlgy. "Welcome to the X-Men."


End file.
